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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28283496">Possess Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/illuminesce/pseuds/illuminesce'>illuminesce</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Persona 5, Persona Series</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Akechi Goro Lives, Angst, Bondage, Bottom Akechi Goro, Consensual Non-Consent, Facials, Hurt/Comfort, Leather Kink, M/M, Marking, S&amp;M, Submission, Wet Dream</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:07:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,133</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28283496</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/illuminesce/pseuds/illuminesce</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a reimagining of the ending of Persona 5—kink/Shuake style. What would happen if it all ended differently? What would have happened had Akechi...</p><p>Warning: this contains spoilers for the ending of Persona 5/Persona 5 Royal.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akechi Goro &amp; Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro &amp; Persona 5 Protagonist, Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>186</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Find Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I initially wrote this out as a script for a 10-page Shuake kink dojinshi. It ended up expanding into a longer story, which is what you are reading now. I tagged everything I could think of, but if there's anything I missed, let me know.</p><p>Constructive feedback and comments are welcome. Please enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>Chapter 1: Find Me</h3>
<h4>Amamiya Ren</h4>
<p>"Savin' the world before spring break!!"</p>
<p>Ryuji elbowed Ren in the side. "How fuckin' cool is that?!"</p>
<p>Some chuckles and groans erupted from the Phantom Thieves as they strolled along the path. The cherry blossoms were in early bloom at Inokashira Park, which meant that chain-smoking company interns were sitting underneath them, looking around nervously for their bosses. Some college kids were filtering into the park with their coolers of beer and snacks. Ren gazed out across the pond at the swan boats skimming across the surface. Spring break was almost here.</p>
<p>It meant he'd be leaving soon.</p>
<p>"I can't believe a motley crew did what we did," Makoto murmured.</p>
<p>He looked around him. Ryuji, Ann, Yusuke, Makoto, Futaba and Haru... if it hadn't been for the Metaverse they would have never talked, much less hang out. Yet, here they were. The Phantom Thieves. His friends.</p>
<p>"...If only Akechi-san were here to enjoy this," Haru whispered.</p>
<p>Awkward silence. Ren's expression darkened. The Thieves traded glances, some nervous, some upset. They lost him, twice. The first time had been painful enough, but when Akechi reappeared, he'd been <em>so happy.</em> And after the false accusations, the betrayal, the shootout—he thought it was finally over. They thought they'd gotten the <em>good ending.</em></p>
<p>They were wrong.</p>
<p>Haru folded her arms and sunk lower. "Sorry. Just wish things had turned out differently."</p>
<p>It was kind of her to pretend like there was nothing he could have done about it. When Akechi reappeared, he made the decision. He erased him. Living inside Maruki's fantasy world wasn't real. It would be worse than reality, living in a lie.</p>
<p>...Probably.</p>
<p>Right?</p>
<p>They walked the rest of the way to Inokashira-koen Station in silence. Pretty soon, he'd be leaving this all behind to go back home. His parents asked him to come back to his hometown in Niigata to help work on the house with his grandfather. He would have refused if it had not been for him. It was probably the last time he'd get to see him before he started work. He could deal with his parents for the summer.</p>
<p>The silence was making him feel sorry for himself. Trying to brighten the mood, he spoke up. "Don't worry, after the summer I'll come visit you. And I'll see you tomorrow."</p>
<p>They nodded, and Ann smiled. "Bummer that Sojiro wanted you to work Leblanc today...I wanted to do a cherry blossom picnic..."</p>
<p>"It's Leblanc's busiest season!" Futaba chimed in. "The Sakura Coffee is really popular."</p>
<p>It had actually been Futaba's idea, not Sojiro's, to put cherry-blossom-shaped sugar flakes on top Leblanc's signature affogato and it had gone viral. Customers were lining up before it opened just to get a chance to taste the cute coffee parfait.</p>
<p>"Well then, all the more reason to stop by," Ann replied with a grin. "See you tomorrow, then?"</p>
<p>"Yep!"</p>
<p>He and Futaba waved goodbye to the crew and took the train back home.</p>
<p>When he arrived at Leblanc, it was already packed. "Finally!" Sojiro motioned to Ren to quickly get behind the counter. As he poured the espresso for chattering customers, his thoughts drifted to Akechi's final moments. He wondered if he regretted meeting him. He said he was so disconnected from everyone that it was easy for him to kill, to sow seeds of chaos for Shido's plans. Did he see himself as nothing more than a tool, even at the very end? Did he truly accept that he had at least...<em>one</em> friend? He hoped he did, but... sometimes he wasn't so sure.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Time passed quickly. Customers filtered in and out, cups were drained and cleaned. Futaba settled into a booth with some regulars, absentmindedly petting Morgana. He was going to miss this place, he thought. It had become so much a part of him, a place to return home to. Would he be able to sleep soundly without the smell of brewing coffee? Sojiro patted him on the shoulder. "Sure you can't stay another week? Could use the extra help."</p>
<p>"You know my parents." he started to brew himself a cup until he noticed the barista's judgmental eyes on him. "C'mon, it's late," Sojiro said. "I should know better than to give a high schooler espresso before bedtime."</p>
<p>Ren raised an eyebrow. "I'm an adult."</p>
<p>"Barely. Now get your keister to bed. You got packing to do."</p>
<p>"Hey, Sojiro, I—" <em>I'm going to miss you.</em></p>
<p>"Save it for later. Scram, kid."</p>
<p>Yeah. He wasn't great with goodbyes either. He climbed the stairs to his bedroom. Twilight had settled over the horizon, casting long shadows throughout his bedroom. Time to pack a little and then hit the hay. He flicked on the light.</p>
<p>Holy <em>shit</em>.</p>
<p>What he at first thought was a corpse was propped up on his bed. It was wearing a blood-stained t-shirt that hung limply over its thin shoulders. Its pale skin was stretched over the bones, and its eyes were open, looking directly at him. It looked like a ghost. It was a ghost. Ren's mouth went dry.</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>"A—Akechi!?"</strong>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Talk to Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Back from the dead, Akechi reveals what happened to him in the time he was gone.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>Chapter 2: Talk to Me</h3>
<h4>Akechi Goro</h4><p>
  <em>You look like shit.</em>
</p><p>I can see it in his eyes when he looks at me in that way, the way one does when they're pitying someone but don't want to say it out loud. God, I missed him. I try to say that, but it comes out as,</p><p>"Thought I'd <strong>die</strong> here waiting for you."</p><p>He gives me a worried look. I was expecting a laugh.</p><p>"I'll call a doctor—"</p><p>At his words, I seize up, unbidden. I imagine the nurse in her light blue scrubs, jotting down notes for my impending commitment to a psychiatric institution. <em>Uh huh. You did battle against your—what was it again?—your "cognitive self." Then you escaped to a "secret world" called the Metaverse. No, no, I believe you. Please keep talking.</em></p><p>"—don't. I'm already dead in Shido’s book—I’d like it to stay that way." My worst nightmare would be, in ascending order, going to the doctor, being committed to a mental institution, and my father sending someone to off me in the middle of the night while I'm on Lorazepam.</p><p>"Why did you come here?" he asks.</p><p>"…It sounds pitiful to say you're my only friend."</p><p>Silence. My ears start to burn.</p><p>"...so I won't."</p><p>I don't know when Amamiya became more than just a friend to me. When we first met, I thought him just a nuisance to be disposed of just like the others. But then I was part of the Phantom Thieves. I had people who gave a shit if I died. And one day, one stupid day that didn't hold any particular significance, he took a sip of my latte jokingly and I fell madly in love. Love was more boring than I'd expected.</p><p>He smirks. <em>There.</em> I shoot him my best cocky smile. I have this under control. He grabs a glass from his bedside table and offers it. My body creaks as I accept it, pain shooting up my spine and into the back of my head. The minute the water hits my tongue, I realize belatedly that I can taste blood. I touch my lip. Busted.</p><p>He sits down and starts picking at my shirt. I assume this some kind of request to see, so I slowly pull the shirt over my head. Everything is so sore.</p><p>He's staring at me, and not in the good way. I look down. There are more injuries than I remember. My cognitive self. When Loki couldn't fight anymore, I used my bare hands. Strangled the fucker to death. Didn't think I had it in me.</p><p>I flick my eyes back to his. I can still hear his screams from behind the metal door, begging me not to die. And I was so ready to die then. I clear my throat and scramble for a diversion—a joke, an insult—anything to cut this unbearable quiet that's descended over the room like an awful shroud. The words tumble from my mouth. "When you stand there and say nothing like that, it pisses me off."</p><p>He doesn't laugh.</p><p>Instead he says, "Akechi, I'm glad you're home."</p><p><em>Home.</em> The lump rolls in my throat, threatening to turn into a sob. I swallow it down with a disgusted look. "Don't say stuff like that."</p><p>His face shifts into his signature smirk. I relax. The smirk, the jokes. They're comfortable, like a blanket. "You need a shower."</p><p>I roll my eyes.</p><p>"Can you stand?"</p><p>Theoretically, I can. I was picking the locks and crawling into his window an hour ago. I push myself off the bed. Like a young fawn, my legs wobble and shake. And suddenly, they collapse underneath me. I squeeze my eyes shut, expecting to hit the floor, but I don't. Instead, he's holding me in his arms.</p><p>"I got you."</p><p>Is that supposed to be reassuring? It's distressing enough that I can barely stand, much less I currently feel like thousands of pins are burrowing themselves into my flesh every time I move. I say nothing and he snakes an arm around my waist, guiding me slowly towards his bathroom door. Oh. <em>We're</em> getting a shower. The pins drive deeper into my skin, and I grip him tighter, biting my lip. It wasn't this bad a few days ago. It was only a few days ago, right?</p><p>My back hits the wall and he's got his fingers in the waistband of my pants. If I weren't in pain, I'd be daydreaming of his lips on my collarbone, pressing kisses down my chest. I draw in a shaky breath and push his hand away. "I-I'm fine."</p><p>"Alright. Well, you can lean on me," he says.</p><p>"What, and you see my dick? Get out of the bathroom," I growl.</p><p>"You're gonna fall over. And we both have the same thing."</p><p><em>Dumbass.</em> I hate to admit it, but he's right. On both accounts. </p><p>"Fine." I lean on him and tug my pants off my hips, kicking them onto the floor along with my socks.</p>
<hr/><p>I'm bracing myself against the wall of the shower, doing a bang-up job of not sliding down, if I do say so myself. He's holding the showerhead and spraying me with warm water and, every so often, touch my arm to make sure I don't topple over. When I slide the bar of soap over my legs, I glance briefly down at the cuts to notice they're angry, red, and have a whitish cap over them. They must be infected.</p><p>"Looks painful." He calmly adjusts the showerhead to hit my legs. Grit and dried blood circle the drain.</p><p>"Yes, it is."</p><p>"You can stay here."</p><p>I say nothing, just keep scrubbing as long as I can stand it.</p><p>"As long as you need."</p><p>I don't have anywhere else to go. He turns the shower head off and hands me a towel. That silence begins to descend on us again while he watches me dry my hair. He could have left me. In the Palace, that is. He could have told me what I was expecting to hear, that I was a fucked-up kid with a death wish and he didn't want anything else to do with me. But he didn't—he gave me hope. And that hope made me want to live. Made me fight. Hope has brought me here. He opens his mouth to say something, but I cut him off.</p><p>"Th-this is nice and all, but I need to piss." Rejuvenated by the shower, I find myself able to grip the wall and make my way around with support. I'm crawling, turtle-like, towards the toilet.</p><p>"O-oh. Yeah, just call me if you need me."</p><p>Without replying, I shut the door.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Help Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ren welcomes Akechi back to the world of the living with mixed success.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>Chapter 3: Help Me</h3><h4>Amamiya Ren</h4><p>The door shut with a <em>click.</em></p><p>As petulant as he was, the dour looks and the staunch independence was purely Akechi, not some apparition from the Metaverse. Though Ren would have to find a way to get him medical treatment. They had some antiseptic in the back, but it wouldn't fix everything, and he still didn't know the extent of Akechi's injuries. He wouldn't know a broken bone from a sprained wrist.</p><p>His thumb hovered over the phone. The Phantom Thieves would want to know Akechi was back, but right now—he needed a level head. He tapped on his messages.</p>
<p></p><div class="center"><p>
    

</p>
<p>
  </p></div><p>The phone buzzed and he almost dropped it on the floor. He should have expected that—</p><p>Suddenly, he heard a cough from the toilet. Unceremoniously, he shoved the phone in his pocket. Akechi was gripping the wall for balance, pants half-on and sweat beading on his forehead. When their eyes met, Akechi scowled. Not <em>this</em> again.</p><p>"Just let me <em>help</em> you," Ren sighed, half in exasperation and half knowing that he would do no such a thing. He was too proud. But he was also light. He put his hands under Akechi's armpits, half-carrying and half-dragging him towards the bed. He grumbled but didn't protest much beyond this, for which he was grateful. When the auburn-haired boy been sat safely on the edge of the bed, he went looking for some extra clothes. Everything was either a school uniform or jeans, which didn't seem comfortable enough to sleep in—</p><p>But then he remembered.</p>
<hr/><p>Ren plopped a navy-blue pajama set on Akechi's lap.</p><p>"What is <em><strong>this?</strong></em>" the boy asked incredulously. The pajamas was dotted with mini glow-in-the-dark stars and cat faces.</p><p>"Clothes that don't have blood on them. And you're welcome, by the way." He tossed Akechi a tube of antiseptic ointment. "Here." </p><p>Akechi caught the tube, then stared down at his open palm for a long time.</p><p>"....thank you." He rubbed the ointment on his shoulders. After he was done, he lifted his arms and Ren slid the pajama tops on. Better ask now before he fell asleep. "Hey Akechi?"</p><p>"Mm?"</p><p>"What happened?"</p><p>Akechi nodded, as if he was finally giving in to the exhaustion that was clearly on his face. "My cognitive self and I fought. Then Shido's palace started collapsing. Somehow...I got out. And then I was in Mementos." He laughed darkly. "I probably should have died in there. But I didn't. And I'm here now."</p><p>"Yeah." He started buttoning the pajamas, one button at a time. "I um. Wanted to thank you. If you didn't take on your Shadow...we would have never reached Shido in time."</p><p>"Was only doing what I had to."</p><p>"You didn't have to."</p><p>Ren had already buttoned halfway up his shirt when Akechi put his hand over his. "I can do it <em>myself</em>, you know."</p><p>"I know." His eyes met his, and Ren could see, if only a small glimpse, of the old Akechi. Underneath the bones and the dark circles under his eyes, Akechi was still there. He'd forgotten how good it felt to tease him. Ren grabbed his wrist playfully. Akechi shot him a sour look.</p><p>"Let go."</p><p>"No."</p><p>With his free hand, he pushed him back on the bed with a smile and Akechi let go in surprise. "Good boy," he said teasingly. "Not so hard, was it?"</p><p>Instead of tossing a quick-witted quip like he normally would, Akechi shuddered and looked away, biting his lip.</p><p>He wasn't sure why, but Ren cleared his throat awkwardly. It was just a joke.</p><p>"Let me help you. Please."</p><p>"...okay."</p><p>The buttoning continued in relative silence. Akechi held surprisingly still even as he wiggled him out of his beat-up slacks and into clean pajamas. He gave him a reassuring smile, hoping he didn't piss him off. "You're gonna need a doctor at some point, you know."</p><p>"No." Akechi's voice was hazy. "I just want to sleep...tonight."</p><p>"Not tonight then. Tomorrow."</p><p>"Fine."</p><p>It wasn't a <em>yes</em>, but it was good enough. When Ren returned from throwing the remainder of Akechi's clothes into the wash, he was already fast asleep, snoring softly. He sighed and checked his phone. Multiple missed calls from Queen. The phone buzzed again.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
  </p>
  <p>
  </p>
  <p>
  </p>
</div><p>Akechi's face was bathed in the cellphone's blue light. Fighting a cognitive version of himself and surviving in the Mementos...he couldn't imagine anyone else who could do that but him. If he was the bad guy, he still... he pulled a blanket over Akechi's sleeping form, putting a hand affectionately on his head.</p><p>"Welcome home, Akechi."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading this chapter!</p><p>Recreating the P5 texting interface by hand was a completely unnecessary but fun part of this chapter! I used <a href="https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=2184597169">JonathanFS's 3D model of Joker's room</a> as a background.</p><p>Huge thanks to <a href="https://www.reddit.com/r/Persona5/comments/gmw6hz/persona_5_royal_fonts_if_i_find_more_about_the/">Gamerverise on Reddit for uncovering all the localized EN fonts for Persona 5</a> so I could make the interface true to the game.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Release Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Fast asleep, Akechi finds himself being dragged towards a terrifying truth that even he won't admit.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>Chapter 4: Release Me</h3><h4>Akechi Goro</h4>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
  
</p>
  <p>
  
</p>
</div><p>I open my eyes, but cannot see.</p><p>I was so sure I made it out this time. It felt so real. Was I wrong? I move a hand—or at least try to. I am naked and bound.</p><p>This is not the Metaverse. The beat of my heart quickens.</p><p>"Untie me immediately. I am not in the mood to play games," I say into the darkness. I try to sound brave, but my voice falters.</p><p>A crimson glove emerges from the pitch black. I cannot see the body or the face of the owner, though I assume there is one. It cups my chin in its long fingers, as if to inspect me like a show dog. The leather against my skin is smooth and sends a jolt down my spine. I shudder.</p><p>I cannot place precisely when these dreams started, but if memory serves it coincided with my first visit to the Metaverse. I woke up in my bed soaked in sweat and the sheets soiled. Perhaps it was some kind of cognitive waste left over from the Shadows. I never was able to validate this. I used apps, pills, and—embarrassingly—the <strong>occult</strong> to get them to stop, but they never did. If anything, they made it worse.</p><p>Me, the champion of rationalism, plagued by nonsense wet dreams.</p><p>The irony is not lost on me.</p><p>
  <strong>"YOU, WEARER OF THE FEIGNED MASK OF JUSTICE. THE MASK OF BETRAYAL.”</strong>
</p><p>The voice cuts through the fog of my thoughts like a ship's bow. I wince. Though I want to protest, the voice in the dark has told no lies. The glove tightens its grip on my face and forces my chin upwards. I am staring into the infinite dark, and as I am unable to see my body, I pretend I am a floating head, weightless. It is blissful, for a moment, to pretend I have no body. But the ropes cut into my skin and remind me otherwise.</p><p>Slowly, my heels rise, then the balls of my feet. I am clinging to the floor with my tiptoes for purchase.</p><p>“Untie me,” I repeat, less sure of myself.</p><p>
  <strong>"THERE IS ONE MORE MASK YOU HAVE YET TO REVEAL."</strong>
</p><p>The thick fogginess in my head grows and I fight against it. Revealing Loki to the Phantom Thieves was terrifying enough, but that—"This is it," I say, a rising note of panic in my voice. "This is the end of the story. I've shown you everything. A robin hood, a killer, a sower of chaos..." A desperate man. My toes are lifted off the ground. I am now suspended completely in the air. The sensation is simultaneously dizzying, uncomfortable and pleasurable. The fog opens its grand maw and consumes my brain in one gulp. Fear is rising like bile in my throat. I cannot escape.</p><p><strong>“THERE IS ONE MORE MASK,”</strong> the voice repeats.</p><p>The voice in the dark tells no lies. A sense of helplessness descends upon me. I have lost the capacity to form new words, so I borrow old ones.</p><p>“This is it--"</p><p>
  <strong>"SHOW ME YOUR TRUE SELF.”</strong>
</p><p>Without warning, my head is jerked backwards, my mouth forced upwards with a gasp. The fingers loosen their grip on me and trace the outline of my lips with a soft glove. The force from my full-body shudder swings my suspended body lazily in the air. I feel something warm slide between my thighs, pressing them apart. His other hand.</p><p>One more mask.</p><p><em>That</em> one.</p><p>
  <strong>"THE MASK OF DESIRE."</strong>
</p><p>I shake my head and struggle against my bonds, strength draining from my limbs. I struggle pointlessly for a few moments, and he does not stop me. Perhaps he wants me to feel how hopeless it is to break free. How useless I am. Suddenly, the leather glove forces itself inside my mouth. I gag. The fog has permeated every corner of my brain, settling into nooks and crannies and wresting all sense from me. I'm losing it.</p><p>In my ears I can hear my own voice, breathy and dripping with lust.</p><p>"Oh please..." I try to say, but my mouth is otherwise occupied. I moan and my cheeks flush hot with humiliation. I can feel my control slipping away from me and I desperately try to hang on.</p><p>"Please..." The second attempt comes out worse than the first. My mouth is full of leather and spit and the sensation of hemp rubbing against my skin is turning me on. I end up accidentally dripping saliva down my chin and a glob of it drips down into the darkness below--or so I pray, but it hits my erection instead.</p><p>
  <strong>"BEG FOR ME, AKECHI."</strong>
</p><p>The dawning realization of who the voice in the dark is hits me like a shot from the blue. I squeeze my eyes shut. No. I don't want to confront this. Not in this dream, and not with <em>him</em>.</p><p>His fingers leave my mouth. For a moment I am bereft, but not for long. A warm sensation blooms from my thighs, snaking into my stomach. No, no, no. A voice comes to me, unbidden. It is the voice from my deepest, darkest nights when I am alone, in my flat, thinking about him."</p><p>Please, <strong><em>Ren—</em></strong>"</p><p>My heartbeat quickens and my breath is all I can hear in my ears.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>"Use me."</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>"Make me <em><strong>beg</strong></em>."</p><p>The sensation peaks, dizzyingly intense and I cry out. I can no longer resist. <em>God I want it so bad</em> but this is just a dream <em>but I want it--</em></p><p>"Mmh!" I finally relent, the fog spilling into the innermost recesses of my mind. I feel all my neurons firing at once, shooting sparks in front of my eyes. I am sucking at his fingers, mouth greedy and impatient. I am arching my back, body desperately seeking his in the darkness. I am panting, breath ragged and uneven. He obliges me. Stroke by dizzying stroke he brings me closer and closer to the edge. When I am standing on the precipice, rendered speechless and dumb, he pulls away. The potential energy that has been building drops to the floor of my stomach and I let out a sob.</p><p>"Please." The words are my own, helpless. The rope vibrates with each shuddering breath I take. Tears prick the corners of my eyes.</p><p>
  <strong>"THIS IS YOUR FINAL MASK."</strong>
</p><p><em>"Please,"</em> I repeat, not sure what else to do but to repeat it over and over again. Surely he would have mercy on me. Surely he would see--I am a mess, I am broken into a million tiny glass shards, beyond repair. He must know this. He must.</p><p>
  <strong>"ACCEPT IT, MY DEAR."</strong>
</p><p>The saliva-slicked leather finger touches my cheek and I shudder in gratitude. "Yes sir," I breathe. "I do."</p><p>The voice in the dark tells no lies. The darkest parts of me here are laid, raw and red and trembling. Dragged into the light and I'm forced to admit--I want him to do this to me. To humiliate me. To degrade me. To touch me. A sudden jolt rockets through my spine. His hand is around me and the sensation is so intense I cry out. I grab the hand on my cheek and press it to my face, breathing out a heavy, lustful sigh. I am kneeling in front of him. When did my hands become free? I am pressing grateful kisses into the leather, inhaling the sweet and acrid scent.</p><p>"Oh, thank you. <em>Thank you</em>."</p><p>And then, I finally see him. From the darkness rises long, lithe arms, a black leather jacket, his impish grin. He regards me for a moment, then frowns. In panic, I grab his wrists. Is he upset? Did I do something?</p><p>"Are you okay?"</p>
<hr/><p>"Hey. You okay?"</p><p>I open my eyes with a start. It is dark. I am in a tiny, dingy room. More importantly, his room. He is standing over me, looking concerned. I look down and realize I am gripping his wrist with the white-knuckled fervor of someone about to die. I am covered in sweat, and most definitely have ruined his pajama pants. The sudden crash to reality causes my eyes to widen, doe-like and a blush tears across my face.</p><p>He wasn't there, right? He doesn't know...right?</p><p>Right?</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Right?</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>"You can let go now." His voice is smooth and easygoing. I hate that. I let go of his wrist as if it has burned me. The room is warm. I am warm. That abominable cat Morgana, is here too, looking at me as if I were some kind of common idiot. Maybe I am.</p><p>"Were you having a nightmare?" he asks, sitting on the bed. I pull the covers up to my chin. "Worse," I say, then realize I can't actually tell him the truth. He doesn't need to know I was in the grips of a delicious, humiliating fantasy. And one I'll likely never have the ability to fulfill. "Visions from the Metaverse."</p><p>"Guess that...kinda stuff lingers with you, huh."</p><p>"It gets inside your head, yeah," I agree wearily.</p><p>"Hey, Akechi..." He looks like he wants to confess something, and it immediately makes me want to run for the door. He must notice my expression, because he chuckles. "Never mind. You're probably tired. Go to sleep."</p><p>"Oh." I look out the window. If this were the countryside, I might see a dazzling starry sky, but this is Tokyo. I settle for tiny pinpricks in the city fog. He rises, and I want to grab him, but I don't. Instead I chew my lip nervously as he settles down on the nearby couch that looks as if it could give someone rabies if they so much looked funny at it.</p><p>"Good night. Have better dreams."</p><p>
  <em>Or another exquisite fantasy.</em>
</p><p>"Yeah." I flop back into the bed, knowing I won't be able to sleep the rest of the night. My hand goes to my pants and I flick my eyes towards Ren, who is settling down and then Morgana, who is fast asleep. My humiliation says no, but my desire says yes. I stare up at the ceiling for a long while.</p><p>
  <em>He'll know.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>You'll be fine.</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>I'll be humiliated.</em>
</p><p>
  <strong>Isn't that what you want?</strong>
</p><p>I slam the back of my head into the pillow in frustration. I'm fighting a losing battle.</p><p>They say idle hands are the devil's playthings. I'll be quiet.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Face Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Calling in the cavalry, Ren finally discovers the extent of Akechi's wounds. Meanwhile, Makoto notices there's something Ren's not mentioning...</p><p>Warning: This chapter references spoilers for the ending of Persona 5 Royal.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>Chapter 5: Face Me</h3><h4>Nijima Makoto</h4><p>He was alive. It didn't make logical sense. Makoto lingered in the doorframe and attempted to process this new reality as Ren soothed Akechi.</p><p>"I said no hospitals. And <em>no police</em>."</p><p>Well, he <strong>sounded</strong> like Akechi at least. Though they hadn't exactly been—<em>close</em>—he <em>did</em> lie about his involvement in the Phantom Thieves and he <em>did</em> try to get them killed. But he also stayed behind. Before she came over, she'd spoken with Ren on the phone. He'd said that Akechi told him—well, <em>implied</em>—he was his only friend. She'd chuckled at that. There were times that she too, felt that loneliness. It was either envy or adoration you received at the top, and neither won you friends.</p><p>Akechi shot a suspicious look in her direction, the way a feral animal does when offered food. She shook her head.</p><p>"Akechi," she said, stepping into the room with the confidence only a Nijima could muster, "I've called a doctor to take a look at you. Nothing leaves this room." She felt his eyes on her. </p><p>"How can I trust you?"</p><p>"Ren spent time in juvie for crimes that <em>you</em> committed, so I should be asking you the same question," she replied, and then gave a small shrug. "But I'm not."</p><p>That seemed to please him. "Touché." With perfect timing, light footsteps on the stair alerted her the doctor had arrived. "Ms. Nijima, I presume?"</p><p>"Thank you for coming, Doctor Takemi."</p><p>"My pleasure."</p><p>A familiar young woman with a bob haircut put her hands in her pockets and smirked at Akechi. "Back from the dead, eh?"</p><p>Akechi relaxed when he saw her. "And here I thought they were bringing a doctor to help me, not euthanise me."</p><p>"So honored that you remember me. I'll make it quick." With ease, she sat next to Akechi and pulled out a thermometer. Her rough bedside manner seemed to put him at ease. After she took his temperature and inspected his wounds, she nodded. "Good of you to call. The bruises will heal, but some of the cuts have staph. It's a bacteria that gets in your blood through skin infections. If left untreated, can do some serious damage."</p><p>"Like?"</p><p>"Death," she said airily with a shrug. Makoto swallowed. As much as she trusted Doctor Takemi, she gave her the creeps. Maybe that was why Akechi liked her."I <em>told</em> you," Ren sighed, poking at him. Akechi grumbled and waved his hand dismissively. <em>Friends, indeed.</em></p><p>"You'll need oral and topical antibiotics to clear it up. Give me a sec, I'll write you a scrip." She grabbed a pen from her jacket pocket. "I'll make it out in your name, Ms. Nijima?"</p><p>"Fine by me."</p>
<hr/><p>When good doctor had had her coffee and said her goodbyes, Akechi had shooed them out of the room, citing he needed to "get dressed." He and Ren bickered for a while, each listing very good reasons as to why the other should stay or go, but Makoto had enough and dragged Ren out of Leblanc to help her fill the prescription. Besides, she was itching at a chance to speak with him one on one.</p><p>She was about to open her mouth but Ren beat her to the punch. "So, Tokyo University. That's a huge honor. Your sister will be proud." It was one of the top schools in Japan. She was grateful that she was able to pull it off <em>and</em> save others in Metaverse. For a few months, her grades had been slipping and she thought she wasn't going to make it. "Thank you. Orientation doesn't start for a few weeks, so I still have time to be around. But you're leaving this weekend."</p><p>"I'll call my parents. Say something came up and Sojiro still needs me to work."</p><p>Made sense. If he couldn't leave him alone for thirty minutes, she doubted he'd leave now. She tried to changed the subject.</p><p>"I can't believe he's alive. You must be excited."</p><p>Ren smiled, his cheeks pinkening a bit. "Probably as excited as the rest of the gang will be when they hear."</p><p>"Did you...tell him? About Maruki?"</p><p>"Why would he need to know?"</p><p>Sometimes Ren was so dense. When he'd lost Akechi the second time, he'd been inconsolable. Shut up in his room for days. Wouldn't answer his phone. She'd been the one to drag him out into the café and get some coffee into him. Futaba helped too—she of all people knew what it felt like to want to hide inside her room forever. There was something more—something he wasn't admitting to the rest of them—or perhaps, even himself—that he felt when he had to make the choice between a happy "fake" memory of Akechi and the reality of losing him again. In her opinion, Maruki in his fondness for the both of them had done something crueler than any other villain they'd faced in the Metaverse.</p><p>This, and so much more she wanted to say. But she didn't. "I think he has a right to know what happened."</p><p>"Oh look. We're here," Ren said suddenly.</p><p>She glanced over at him with a furrowed brow. <em>Are you trying to get out of this, Amamiya Ren?</em></p><p>He shrugged in response. "You coming or not?"</p><p>She nodded. He may not want to confront this today, but eventually—and soon—he'd have to face her.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I haven't been writing extensive author's notes, but I wanted to genuinely thank the people who have read this fic and left kudos so far. It's very encouraging, so thank you! It's a little side-project that expanded (like side-projects do...) into this fic. I'm thinking this might be about 10~13 chapters, but I haven't committed on a final number.</p><p>Look forward to more soon.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Unwind Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A few days after the visit from the doctor, Akechi's wounds, both physical and psychological are beginning to heal.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>Chapter 6: Unwind Me</h3><h4>Akechi Goro</h4><p>I was a length of rope wound taut—now I am slowly unwinding. In my tiny world, time passes slowly. It's only been a few days (I think), but I refuse to go outside. When I get close to the door, I get the shakes and lose my nerve. My brain still can't process the fact that I left this world in chilly December, and now, it's spring. It felt like a lifetime in the Metaverse, and seeing the change of the seasons reminds me how long I was there. It's pathetic, I know. At least he doesn't rub it in my face.</p><p>In fact, Amamiya <em>insisted</em>—in his usual annoying way—that he help me administer my medication. I declined, of course. Staph is contagious, and he shouldn't have touched them in the first place. Now that death isn't imminent, he seems more willing to back off. And he does.</p><p>I still have dreams. Some about the Metaverse, and others—well—I <em>wish</em> they were about the Metaverse. But when I wake up, I am back in control. Blessed, glorious control. In my tiny world, I define my own rituals.</p><p>One such ritual is beginning.</p><p>I wake up from a particularly vivid dream, again. It is five-thirty A.M. He's still asleep on the couch. I have my own clothes—or at least, a mix of hand-me-downs and thrift store purchases that will suffice for now. I throw these on and proceed slowly down the steps.</p><p>"Akechi-san." Sojiro's waiting for me, already with a café au lait in one hand and a half a newspaper in another. I nod and take both. We sit down wordlessly together in a booth, sipping our respective coffees and reading our respective halves of the newspaper. I read about someone named Maruki Takuto testifying at an arraignment of the suspected killers of his ex-girlfriend. Good to know that even though the world has been saved I'll still have a job. Had I been present, I might have been assigned this case. The thought of taking on a homicide at this juncture starts an annoying headache that grips the back of my skull.</p><p>I hear the papers shift.</p><p>"You done?"</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>We swap. I come back down to reality, and we go back to our silence.</p><p>I am almost done reading the last part of the paper when the sound of a yawn behind me interrupts us. "Ahaha. So <em>this</em> is what you get up to in the morning," Amamiya says, voice laden with sleep. "Cute."</p><p>Sojiro scowls in his direction. "Can't a man enjoy his coffee in peace?" </p><p>I follow. "Silence is golden, you know."</p><p>Amamiya rolls his eyes. "Well, don't drink all the prune juice, <em>pops</em>." He turns to leave. What the hell does that mean?</p><p>"This is <strong>coffee</strong>!" I yell after him, to a chuckle from him and a snort from Sojiro. <em>Et tu, Bruté?</em></p><p>I stare at my cup and think about crushing his—no—<em>both</em> of their skulls.</p><p>I could still do it, you know.</p><p>Just don't want to.</p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter is somewhat short as it is the intro to a longer, sexier part of the story. Enjoy your coffee, Akechi, for now...</p><p>Thanks again for the support, everyone! It means a lot.</p><p>Feel free to send kudos or comments my way. Support and constructive feedback encouraged!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Unravel Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tension between Ren and Akechi heightens as Akechi tries something stupid. Did he just mess up everything...?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>Chapter 7: Unravel Me</h3>
<h4>Akechi Goro</h4>
<p>Last night, he almost caught me. I was staring up at the dirty ceiling, imagining him wrenching my arms behind my back and slamming me against the wall. I would try to fight back at first, curse at him or spit at him, but he would press me until I couldn't move and my face was burning with humiliation.</p>
<p><em>"You little shit,"</em> he would say in that low, smooth voice of his. His lips were against my ear and his tongue darted out to taste me. <em>"I'm going to enjoy tearing you apart."</em></p>
<p>I didn't notice how hard I was breathing until he broke the spell.</p>
<p>"Nightmare again?"</p>
<p>I caught the breath in my throat, pretending to stir. "O-oh. Yeah."</p>
<p>"Lot of those recently. Anything I can do?"</p>
<p><em>Oh yes, sir.</em> You can push my head to the floor and humiliate me. Slap me when I try to get up. Make me beg just to lick the soles of your shoes.</p>
<p>"No."</p>
<p>My eyes met his, but unexpectedly, he didn't break the gaze.</p>
<p>"You sure?"</p>
<hr/>
<p>Last night's "incident" raised too many questions. Was he being defensive, or—was he offering something to me? Is <em>that</em> why he's been so annoyingly insistent in taking care of me? I shudder just thinking about it.</p>
<p>Currently, he's in the bathroom, brushing his teeth while filling the bathtub. I pretend to read a book, but I'm actually staring at him. If I did—If I said anything—my heart is pounding in my ears. He could kick me out. Worse, he could take me to the Metaverse and just leave me there.</p>
<p>Or he could...</p>
<p>I don't know.</p>
<p>I flop frustratedly against my pillow and smack the book I'm holding against my forehead. <em>Give it up, Akechi.</em> It's impossible. He might <em>dress</em> in leather, that doesn't mean he's <em>into</em> leather.</p>
<p>After some time, I lower the book to see him standing over me dressed only in a towel. "You want the next bath?"</p>
<p>"Uh...sure."</p>
<p>As I walk past him towards the bathroom, he shoves me, playfully. When I would have keeled over only days before, now I stand my ground. "Watch it," I warn. "I'm still dangerous, you know."</p>
<p>He laughs, unconcerned. I heave an exaggerated sigh. Figures he wouldn't care.</p>
<p>I toss off my clothes and slip into the bath. It smells vaguely like him.</p>
<p>As I'm inhaling, I hear his voice from the bedroom. "Did you ever meet a guy by the name of Maruki Takuto?"</p>
<p>Something about that name rings a faraway bell.</p>
<p>I squint my eyes. "From the paper?"</p>
<p>"What?"</p>
<p>"He's testifying in court."</p>
<p>"Oh. Yeah. He's our school's counselor."</p>
<p>"Why are you asking me this?"</p>
<p>The pause is long enough that I become suspicious. Then, "No reason."</p>
<p>Now, now, Amamiya. That's <em>my</em> line. He's hiding something from me, I can sense it. I'm working the puzzle over in my head when he adds, "I dunno. I talked to him once. Made me realize some things that I...kept hidden, even from myself."</p>
<p>I think back to my fantasy several nights prior, where the hemp of the rope was cutting into my skin and his fingers were shoved into my mouth. I sink into the bath, my cheeks going red. First he was concerned about my body, now it's my mind.</p>
<p>It's too quiet.</p>
<p>I have to say something.</p>
<p>He beats me to the punch. "A-all I'm saying is that you've been having a lot of nightmares recently, and maybe if you talked—"</p>
<p>"If I <em>talked</em> to someone, they'd just lock me away," I say flatly. I'm drawing circles in the bath water, looking any direction but where <em>he</em> is. "I've seen a lot more of you than you show other people. You're not insane."</p>
<p>I don't think before the words leave my mouth. "Maybe there's one more mask I haven't taken off yet."</p>
<p>I don't have time to regret the words because he immediately replies, "Well...maybe I'd like to see <em>that</em> too."</p>
<p>The blush rises to my ears. <em>What is he trying to say?!</em> Did he just...proposition me? Was that a request? Or is he just messing with me?</p>
<p>I shoot a furtive glance over to the bedroom. He's playing with his phone.</p>
<p>I have no idea what I'm supposed to do, so I clamber out of the bathtub silently and don the cat-and-star pajamas. They're humiliating, the perfect suit to wear to my impending funeral. As soon as my head hits the pillow, the light flicks off and the room plunges into darkness.</p>
<p>"Night, Akechi."</p>
<p>"Night."</p>
<p>"Hey..."</p>
<p>"Mm?"</p>
<p>"I'm glad you're back."</p>
<p><em>Him</em>, of all people, should be the last person to say that to me. A fine wine to aged cheese, his mixed signals pairs well with my guilt. He took me in, fed me—hell—if he wasn't so damn insistent I probably would be dead. I should...do something.</p>
<p>To thank him.</p>
<p>Before the doubt has the chance to stop me, I pull the covers to the side. Would he—would he want—</p>
<p>I cough. "Hey. C-come over here."</p>
<p>When his eyes meet mine, my fingers clench the sheets. He says nothing for a moment, and just when I think he'll refuse, he moves silently towards me and sits on the edge of the bed. He's wearing only boxers and I try not to look at the hard glint of his collarbone in the dim light.</p>
<p>"What's up?"</p>
<p>I don't have the courage to muster words. Instead, I slide my legs off the bed and drop to my knees in front of him. I don't meet his eyes. I steel myself and grab his feet and start massaging them.</p>
<p>"W-what are you doing, Akechi?" He tries to jerk his legs away, but my fingernails dig into his skin. "Please—!" the words spill from his mouth, suddenly, urgently, then settle into a low, embarrassed whisper. "Just—let me do this for you. Please."</p>
<p>"O-okay." The legs relax and I rub a knuckle into the arch of his foot.</p>
<p>"You've...um, done...a lot for me." The words feel foreign, like marbles in my mouth. "You were on your feet all day at the cafe, so uh...let me help you unwind."</p>
<p>In my tiny world, time passes slowly. And especially now, my world is so small, shrunk down to the shape of his toes and the ridges of muscle on the balls of his feet. He sighs. I'll probably never have a chance like this again. Slowly, my hands travel up his legs. I hear a groan come from above me and it cascades over me like cold water. I shudder.</p>
<p>"G-good?" I ask.</p>
<p>"Yeah," he replies.</p>
<p>"Good." I bow my head and continue, pressing my clenched fist into his calves. My initial trepidation is waning, though the awkwardness is still there. Again, I find it far too silent for my liking, and attempt conversation again. "You're...um, really tight."</p>
<p>No answer but the sound of heavy breathing. Is he—turned on? I-if so, he...</p>
<p>"You don't...have to do this, you know," he says, his voice huskier than usual. "If you feel like you owe me something, you don't."</p>
<p>"Do you want me to stop?" I ask.</p>
<p>"No."</p>
<p>"Then I won't."</p>
<p>From his calves to his knees, my hands travel upwards. The farther they go, the less talking we do. He leans back on his elbows, his chest rising and falling slowly with steadily increasing breathing.</p>
<p>When my fingers reach his thighs I can feel his pulse surging through his veins, quick and strong and so <em>alive</em>. The fuzziness I'd experienced before in my fantasy wraps around my mind like a comforting blanket. It's sinking into the ridges of my brain and I find myself smiling blissfully like some kind of fool. I am doing this. I am responsible for this. His fingers are gripping the sheets, and his stomach is pulled taut in anticipation...of <em>what</em>, I wonder?</p>
<p>I lean forward, my lips inches from his boxers. God, I can <em>smell</em> him from here. For a brief moment, I dare to look up.</p>
<p>Our eyes meet...</p>
<p>...and I know that I've broken the spell. He puts a hand on my shoulder. "I think that's enough. Thanks."</p>
<p>I am confused and frustrated and angry and helpless all at the same time. So close to him, I pull away and slowly rise to my feet. He was into it, wasn't he? Did I do something wrong? When I sit down again, it takes my clouded mind a few moments to process that he's already crossed the room back to the couch. It's only a few feet but the distance feels as vast as the ocean. I pull the covers over my legs.</p>
<p>"Goodnight, Ren."</p>
<p>"Goodnight."</p>
<p>I want to be more than just Shido's lapdog, but I'm disappointed that the freedom I desire is to be <em>his</em> lapdog.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you again for the kudos and comments, y'all! This chapter was a delight to write—I'm especially fond of boys being supremely awkward while desperately wanting to touch one another. I hope you all are too.</p>
<p>Akechi, if you want him to push you onto the floor and eat you, just ask!</p>
<p>...I know, I know, it's not that easy, is it? ;)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Stay Away From Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ren reflects on the events of last night and realizes—he doesn't want to reflect any longer.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>Chapter 8: Stay Away From Me</h3><h4>Ren Amamiya</h4><p>
  <em>What the <strong>fuck</strong> just happened?</em>
</p><p>To say Ren had difficulty sleeping that night was an understatement. He had stared at the ceiling, his thoughts a jumble of moments and rationalizations. <del>It started off innocently enough</del> but didn't he already know it wasn't innocent in the first place? What did Akechi <em>think</em> he was doing? What did <em>he think</em> Akechi <em>thought</em> he was doing? Unlike the prodigal detective, thinking too much in circles made his head hurt.</p><p>He'd gotten <em>so close</em> to telling him last night about what happened at Maruki's Palace. The first time he lost him, he could have easily rationalized that there was nothing he could have done. He could have said Akechi closed the shutters too quickly, or that they needed to stop Shido, but the <em>second time</em>...</p><p>He <strong>had</strong> a choice.</p><p>And he ultimately chose to live a the world without him.</p><p>With that choice, he'd accepted Akechi was never coming back, that there was no way to bring him back, and yet <em>here he was, once again.</em></p><p>Waking up next to him every day was like waking up suddenly to a sky with two suns—he <em><del>knew</del></em> or <em>thought</em> he knew there was only one sun, but somehow—inexplicably—there were <em>two.</em> Even after a few days, he hadn't wrapped his head around the complex mixture of guilt and relief he felt. Until he saw him in the morning with his own eyes, sipping coffee with Sojiro, he was completely convinced he was dead. And every time he saw him, that same confusing cocktail would overtake him.</p><p>The first step was to get him physically well. This had a logical beginning and end. He knew how to do this.</p><p>Now that he was getting better... he was afraid of the next part.</p><p>This morning, he didn't want to check if there were two suns. He wanted to close his windows avoid reality completely.</p>
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</div><p>Apparently to Ryuji, "let's get coffee" meant "daytime karaoke."</p><p>"But you can order coffee here!" he'd said to Ren when he'd protested. He shrugged. Either way, he was out of the house. Nothing good could come from being cooped up in there.</p><p>Karaoke, of course, was not<em>karaoke</em> without friends, so thirty minutes in Ann showed up to the booth, and soon after Makoto and Futaba. Yusuke was busy packing for his upcoming trip to Tama University, and Haru was in "shareholder meetings."</p><p>Ryuji yawned. "Major bummer. Was hoping for the whole crew."</p><p>"Don't you have to go to orientation soon?" Ren asked. Ryuji had been accepted into university on a scholarship, and while not far from Shujin Academy, he was still planning on living in the dorms.</p><p>"Yeah, but there's time."</p><p>"Not much."</p><p>"Aaanyway! I get that you like us and everything, but why are you still here? Thought your parents were pretty gung-ho on the whole helping your grandpa in Niigata."</p><p>Ann grinned. "I mean, who <em>wouldn't</em> want to hang with us? But Ryuji's right. What changed?"</p><p>And then the world rotated back to the topic of <strong>him</strong>. He shrugged enigmatically at first, hoping to dodge the subject but then realized with Makoto and Futaba it was impossible.</p><p>"You haven't told them?" Makoto asked.</p><p>"Tell us what?" Ann replied.</p><p>"Okay—don't...freak out."</p><p>Ryuji's eyes went wide. "When you say not to freak out... I freak out, man."</p><p>"Okay...don't."</p><p>"Can't stop, won't stop."</p><p>"Damn you." Ren put a hand to his forehead. "So, you know how we don't hang out in my room?"</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>"Well, we don't go there because <strong><em>Akechi</em></strong> is in there."</p><p>Ann screwed her face up. "We're all sad he's gone, but don't go like, Norman Bates on us."</p><p>"What? No. Ew! <em>No.</em> He's alive. Makoto helped me get him treatment."</p><p>"What?! You knew about this!?" she asked incredulously to Makoto as she punched in a song.</p><p>And to Futaba, "<strong>You</strong> knew about this?"</p><p>"Well, duh. He's staying at our place." Futaba replied with a shrug. Ann threw up her hands exasperatedly.</p><p>Ryuji's mouth was running on a high-speed motor that paused every time he took a bite. Ren had to order two baskets of fried chicken for him to stuff his face before he could be considered intelligible. "Waitsowhatyou're—<em>chomp</em>—"</p><p>"—telling me is—<em>nom</em>—"</p><p>"—that <strong>asshole</strong> has been sitting in your room—"</p><p>"—just like what—<em>chomp</em>—"</p><p>"—playing cards or some <strong>bullshit</strong>?"</p><p>Glibly, he replied to him that <em>yes</em>, Akechi was alive, and <em>yes</em>, he was an asshole, but he was more of a reader than a card player.</p><p>"Not the point, Ren!" Ann said. "When were you going to tell us?"</p><p>"Uh...eventually. I dunno, when things calmed down. He was in a pretty bad way. Doctor said he had staph."</p><p>"Geez, that's serious! Is he okay now?"</p><p>He thought of Akechi's hands, rubbing his feet. "He seems okay, I guess."</p><p>"Aight. So...we're gonna visit today, right?" Ryuji asked.</p><p>He wanted to escape, just for <em>one</em> day. "I don't know. He's gone a little—" Last night's memory of his hands on his thighs came back to haunt him mid-sentence, and the next words came out breathier than he meant them to. "—funny?"</p><p>"He's always been weird," Ryuji replied. "Seems like normal Akechi to me."</p><p>"I think we should go see him~" Makoto sung into the microphone. "Might cheer him up since you said he's on the mend."</p><p>"I didn't—" He stopped when he saw his friend's faces. They had missed him too. He sighed and leaned back in the booth. "Fine, but...try not to freak him out."</p><p>"Are you kidding me? I'm <em>totally</em> gonna freak him out," Ryuji said, grabbing the mic from Makoto.</p><p>Face, meet hand.</p>
<hr/><p>The five of them were standing outside Leblanc. Ren was still wondering if there was a way of dissuading them from going back in.It's not that he didn't want to see Akechi, he told himself. It was just that he'd probably spent too much time with him, anyway, and couldn't he just get a <em>minute</em> where he wasn't confronting a painful truth that he <em>could have gone back into the Metaverse and found him if he'd only known—</em></p><p>Really, the problem was last night. It was easy to pretend like someone else was rubbing his feet. That someone else's breath was gliding over his boxers. And the moment that Akechi's eyes met his, he realized <em>he should have been out there looking for him—</em></p><p>The jingle of the front door interrupted his thoughts. "Evening, kiddo. You brought your friends this time."</p><p>"Brought them over to see you-know-who. After we're done I'll come help you," Futaba said.</p><p>"Good kid. You planning on working tonight?" He turned to Ren. Ren stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Uh—"</p><p>"I volunteer as tribute!" Ryuji interrupted, to which Sojiro made a face. "Alright kid. You can put on the apron, but don't touch my espresso machine."</p><p>"Roger that!"</p><p>And before he could say anything, they were making a beeline for his room. He raced to get ahead of them, but was too late to stop the Phantom Thieves from spilling into the room with the energy and gusto of a laborador retriever.</p><p>"Akechi! Holy shit, dude!" Ryuji yelled.</p><p>Akechi was sitting on the bed in Ren's hand-me-downs and appeared to be doing something to his wrists. When he saw them he thrust his hands deep into the sheets, his eyes wide and his face ghost white. And just like that, the same mixture of melancholy and happiness, now with a new addition—panic—swept over Ren when he saw him. He was <em>alive.</em></p><p>"What the <em><strong>fuck</strong></em>—" Akechi started to protest, but Ann had already crossed the room and had gathered him into a hug. "Do you have <em>any idea</em> how awful it was to lose you <em>twice</em>??"</p><p>Ryuji held out his fist for a fistbump.</p><p>Akechi gave him an annoyed expression and kept his hands out of sight.</p><p>"Ehhh?" He was waiting for the fistbump.</p><p>When Ryuji realized he wasn't going to get what he wanted, he punched him on the shoulder instead. "Damn dude. You scared us. Third time's the charm right?"</p><p>As Akechi's his expression changed from annoyance to confusion, Ren's blood went cold. "I'm sorry, what? <em>Twice</em>?"</p><p>Ren cleared his throat. "We don't need to talk about Maruki—"</p><p>Akechi's eyes met his. "Maruki. The school counselor."</p><p>Dammit. Why now? He wanted—no, he <em>needed</em> more time. He hadn't even worked out these—these—<em>whatever they were</em> in the moment, how could he be reminded of—</p><p>"Yeah, you remember him?" Ann said. Ren stared daggers at her, but she continued, apparently unfazed. "We lost you in Shido's Palace...and we thought you were gone. But then—you came back to school as if nothing happened. And everything had returned to normal...or so we thought." Ann released him to put her hands on his shoulders. "It was <em>you</em> who told us Maruki had made an illusion where we could all be happy...because you were still alive." Her eyes began to water. "You told us it wasn't true. That in the real world, you were gone..."</p><p>"A world where you could be happy...is one where I'm still alive," Akechi repeated, his shoulders sinking. "Do you...really think so?"</p><p>Ren's throat went dry. </p><p>Yes, but he'd chosen a world without him. He opened his mouth to say something, but Makoto answered first.</p><p>"Of course, Akechi. You're our friend. We <em>want</em> a world with you in it."</p><p>Akechi's shoulders sunk lower. Ren figured he was angry. He prepared himself to be lectured or to be yelled at, but he wasn't prepared for what happened next.</p><p>A sniffle.</p><p>"...I'm still alive." Was he—<em>crying?</em></p><p>Akechi's shoulders sunk down to the bed and he began to shake silently. Starting from his shoulders and wracking itself down his entire body, a deep sob, then a howl, dragged itself out of his throat.</p><p>The guilt, kept at bay until now, wriggled deep within Ren like an insidious worm. Akechi was like this because he never went back. He was like this because he hadn't prised the door open, that he'd listened to a <strong>goddamn illusion</strong> and let him go and didn't keep fighting. Time in the Metaverse worked different than time out here. If he'd been gone three months in real time, god knows how long he'd felt like he was in the Metaverse. And every day he chose to live—to find who? <em>Him</em>, who had given up—</p><p>"Futaba, get some water for him, okay?" Makoto said. He remembered her saying the same thing when they found him locked in his room, unwilling to come out.</p><p>"On it!" He made them promise not to tell. He hadn't wanted to show the others how much Akechi's death had affected him because a good leader was supposed to be strong—</p><p>"Ren...sit." She pointed to the spot next to Akechi, adjacent to Ann, who was rubbing small circles on his back. He looked helplessly back at her. <em>I don't know how to do this,</em> he mouthed, but her gaze hardened. "<strong>Sit.</strong>"</p><p>Swallowing a lump in his throat, he gingerly sat next to Akechi and tried to calm him, mimicking the circles Ann was making. But as soon as he touched him, his sobs turned to high pitched keening and he elbowed him away. A failure at saving him then, a failure now. He threw up his hands in frustration. "I don't know how to do this," he repeated out loud.</p><p>"You were so good at fussing over him when he was <em>physically</em> injured," she shot back.</p><p>Normally, he'd have a smart retort, something cool and enigmatic that showed he was completely in control and not losing it. But nothing came to mind. Out of anger at himself and anger at her for basically <em>causing</em> Akechi's meltdown, he snapped. "I don't know how to <strong>do</strong> this, Makoto!!" he hissed. He stood up and opened the door to bump into Futaba and nearly spill the glass of water she was carrying. Yes, everyone knew how to take care of Akechi. Everyone <em>except him.</em> He brushed past her.</p><p>"Wait—where are you going, Ren?" she called after him.</p><p>"<strong>Out!!</strong>" he yelled, stomping through the shop of puzzled patrons and out into the cool spring night.</p><p>He took a deep breath. That room was so small, and his emotions so big, they were suffocating.</p><p>Out here, he could breathe easier.</p><p>He'd rather stay out here.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And for Valentine's Day—I gift you boys terrible at communication but great at angst! </p><p>Thank you for your patience, everyone. The past two weeks I've been busy, so it was nice this weekend to settle down and write a new chapter. I hope you're enjoying it! Looks like this fic will be about thirteen chapters long in total. Honestly, when I sat down to write this I didn't plan on this fic being that long—most of my others have been small, 1,000 word drabbles so writing past 8,000+ feels like an achievement.</p><p>Thank you for the encouraging comments and posts, and look forward to the next chapter soon.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Forgive Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After Ren leaves Akechi with the Phantom Thieves, Akechi plunges into what the uncertainty that those words hold. What does a world with him in it even look like?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>Chapter 9: Forgive Me</h3>
<h4>Akechi Goro</h4>
<p>"You're our friend. We <em>want</em> a world with you in it."</p>
<p>The words tear a clean hole through me. My body, unbidden, curls as if I'm a caterpillar being held to a flame. From my mouth comes a noise I've never made before. <em>I must be dying,</em> I think, though my logical brain is quick to remind me I'm just in pain. Me surviving for so long in there was not a heroic struggle. I did not think fondly of my friends and lovers waiting for me on the other side. It was a pragmatic acceptance that I would be dead soon and a bullish stubbornness that neither Shido nor the Shadows were worthy of the satisfaction of killing me.</p>
<p>No, that honor goes to—</p>
<p>When he touches me, I'm reminded of how I came to his room half looking for help, half hoping he'd strangle me and end it. He gave me neither. After last night I'm even more sure he can't give me what I <em>actually</em> want. I push him away.</p>
<p>"I don't know how to <strong>do</strong> this, Makoto!!" he shouts.</p>
<p>Yeah, I know Ren. You don't know how.</p>
<p>And <em>I</em> don't know how to live a life where I'm wanted. Where my fantasies are any more than just useless dreams. Where I could ask you to pin me against the floor and you would, with the devilish glint in your eye when you slaughter Shadows. That is not my reality.</p>
<p>This world that is happier with me in it—I can't picture it at all.</p>
<p>It's just a black box.</p>
<p>The realization of future possibility terrifies me. I want things to be black and white, good and evil, to be kept in this tiny room with my tiny rituals, never thinking about what happens tomorrow. Tomorrow is walking down the stairs, getting my latte and opening the paper with Sakura-san. Tomorrow is us both grumbling at Amamiya when he predictably makes some asinine joke about us. I'm swallowing, drawing the noises back into my body as if I were a fish gulping water. If I can swallow all my insecurities, perhaps I'll be able to breathe. I sense that someone is drawing near and I lift my head. It is Futaba, holding a glass of water.</p>
<p>"Here, drink."</p>
<p>Yes, drink. I should.</p>
<p>But I <em>cannot.</em></p>
<p>Her words hang awkwardly in the air. I am coming back to my body. My shoulders hurt. My hands are shaking. They are underneath the sheets and my wrists are tied together with nylon rope I'd previously found rummaging through the cafe's storage closet.</p>
<p>Oh <em><strong>shit</strong></em>.</p>
<p>"I...can't."</p>
<p>"Are your hands okay, Akechi?" Ann starts to peel back the sheets, and before I can protest, the Thieves are staring at me. "What's this?" Makoto asks, with the confusion of someone <em>painfully</em> vanilla. Futaba looks away quickly with the guilt of someone who is <strong>not</strong>. Mental note.</p>
<p>"Uhhh, you're tied up," Ann remarks.</p>
<p>"Brilliant observation. Yes. I did it to myself," I say, trying to cut to the chase of this mystery novella. My voice is shakier than I intend it to be. <em>"It was me, with the rope, in the bedroom."</em></p>
<p>"Nice knots," Futaba observes, and we both share <em>that</em> look.</p>
<p>"Will you kindly untie me?" I ask. She looks as if she's going to say something sarcastic, but thinks better of it. </p>
<p>"Alright." Ann is presently puzzling over the rope. "You did this yourself? I think I've read about something like in one of Ryuji's dojinsh—"</p>
<p>"HEY!! Those are for <em>guy times only</em>! When did you get ahold of my—"</p>
<p>"It's not just for <em>guys</em>, Ryuji!."</p>
<p><em>Guy time?</em> Is this some high school thing I've somehow overlooked? I glance over at Ryuji, and it is then that I notice that <strong>he</strong> is gone. The rope slides from my hands and I accept the glass. "Amamiya is--?"</p>
<p>"I'm sure he'll be back soon," Makoto says quickly.</p>
<p>I take a sip silently. The tension grows as the minutes tick on. Small talk cuts through the awkwardness for the first hour, but it becomes increasingly apparent that Amamiya isn't returning. Ryuji and Futaba drift down to Leblanc to handle the growing din of customers fussing over some seasonal sakura drink. It is about that time of year, I guess. Weird. The last season I remember was winter.</p>
<p>"You know...Ren's leaving next weekend," Ann says.</p>
<p>I try not to sound surprised. "Oh?"</p>
<p>"Yeah. He's gonna help his grandfather in Niigata," Makoto adds.</p>
<p>"...he's not going to college?"</p>
<p>"Parents say that he owes them for the trouble they went to bailing him out of detention. He's taking a gap year."</p>
<p>"That's bullshit. I have enough money in my bank account to pay for us," I say.</p>
<p>"Careful what you wish for, you might become Ren's sugar daddy," Ann jokes."</p>
<p>Better <em>that</em> than him cowtowing to a bunch of ungrateful <em>adults,</em>" I shoot back, and Makoto raises an eyebrow. "Indeed."</p>
<p>It's getting late and the two have dinner with their respective families, so the both of them tell me they'll check in on me in the morning. My existential crisis will not be gone by then, but I give them A for effort.</p><hr/>
<p>When Sakura-san invites me down for dinner, I realize this is the first time I've been in a room alone with the two of them. Usually Ren would cut the tension but I have no such protection now. A shadow—Wakaba—hangs over us.</p>
<p>"So...what are you gonna do after this?" Sakura-san asks. Again with the future talk. I push air out of my lungs and slowly draw it back in. "Probably leave this town, settle down."</p>
<p>He chuckles. "A fitting ending for a detective," Futaba chimes in with a smile. "When Sherlock Holmes fell at Reichenbach Falls he was reborn as a beekeeper."*</p>
<p>I frown. "You both know as well as I do I'm Moriarty," I say darkly. Sakura-san puts down his fork and looks at me in confusion and Futaba hugs her arms to her chest. She reminds me so much of her mother. Whom I killed.</p>
<p><em>Just say it,</em> a voice whispers inside me. <em>Say you killed her. They'll take you straight to the police.</em> Straight to a tiny box. To a manageable world. I open my mouth.</p>
<p>"No," she says, her voice determined, "You're Holmes. 'Cause when Doyle killed him off, his fans wouldn't let him. Moriarty <em>stayed</em> dead."</p>
<p>I picture myself, the titular "hero," falling into darkness. My story was over when I heard the door shut and him screaming on the other side. I was supposed to go out with a bang, and yet I've been dragged back into literature once more for one last bow. They will have a world with me in it, and I will retire to a boring life of trivial pursuits and arthritis. I picture myself as an older man, hair gray and hands wrinkled. I'm gardening.</p>
<p>"I'm sorry."</p>
<p>"Futaba, what are you two talking about?" Sakura-san asks, but Futaba looks me over with another secret shared look. I could easily go. All I would have to say is—</p>
<p>"Akechi, <em>promise</em> me you won't make people suffer any more than they already have over you."</p>
<p>I blink.</p>
<p><em>"Promise me,"</em> she repeats, and in that moment I see Wakaba blinking back at me. Sharp, intelligent eyes.</p>
<p>
  <em>We want a world with you in it.</em>
</p>
<p>"Thank you for the food, Sakura-san," I say politely, bowing to him and Futaba. My humble hosts. I don't know how I'll repay them for their kindness, but I'll figure out how. To be honest, it was comforting to think the Phantom Thieves were celebrating my death. The superior Joker had finally defeated his rival. I died heroically saving the day, and no one else would have to pick up the broken pieces of the mess I'd made. That was the plan.</p>
<p>And then came the encore.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>* In reference to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's "The Final Problem" and the subsequent epilogue, "His Last Bow." Doyle had intended "The Final Problem" to be the final installment of the Sherlock Holmes' series, but in response to his fans' reaction, he brought him back for a softer, kinder epilogue.</p>
<p>The irony is not lost on me that, because I love Goro Akechi so, even though he dies (offscreen, and later in Royal, unclear) I'm writing this fanfic to revive him.</p>
<p>Thanks again for all the love and comments—we're heading towards the conclusion and I have some great things planned for you all. ;)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Listen to Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Makoto tracks down Ren and confronts him about his feelings.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>Chapter 10: Listen to Me</h3>
<h4>Makoto Nijima</h4>
<p>Morning. Makoto was standing outside the front door of Ryuji's house, her arms crossed. Before graduating, her older sister had warned her about leaving things unfinished. “When you get older," she'd say, "you'll look back on these high school memories. Make sure when you do you don't have any regrets."</p>
<p>It was ironic to her that she'd bring this up <em>now,</em> when she didn't have much time to change much of anything. Up until she’d met the Phantom Thieves, she'd spent a majority of her high school years trying to live up to others' expectations. Top grades, student council, and now—accepted into the prestigious Tokyo University. Sure, she was proud, but having confidants in the Thieves made it worth it. They celebrated her ups and commiserated her downs. She wasn't sure how she'd gone this long without them—her true friends.</p>
<p>Because of <em>them</em>, she was living her life with no regrets. But right now...</p>
<p>She could tell that Ren was about to do something that he would later regret.</p>
<p>She wouldn’t let that happen. She was his friend.</p>
<p>She knocked on the door."One moment!" Ryuji’s mother appeared on the other side, spatula in one hand. “Makoto! Good morning! What brings you here so early? The boys aren't up yet."</p>
<p>So her instinct had been correct. Something told her Ren would escape to Ryuji's house for a late night of "guy stuff"—whatever that was. She thought back to Akechi's wrists, bound. This wasn't about helping <em>him.</em> This was about her helping Ren not be an idiot. “Good morning, Ms. Sakamoto. Sorry, I need to talk to them. It's kind of important.”</p>
<p>“Honey! Your friend is here to see you,” Ms. Sakamoto called upstairs. A tired, grumbly voice floated back down. “Moooom, it’s like...<strong>early.</strong>”</p>
<p><em>It is ten in the morning. It is not, "like, early!”</em> Makoto thought. She traded a pleading look with Ms. Sakamoto, who then replied,</p>
<p>“Then who is going to eat all these pancakes while they’re still hot?”</p>
<p>Truly, she had never known the meaning of speed until she saw Ryuji and Ren barrel down the steps in various states of undress, each pulling a t-shirt over what appeared to be yesterday’s boxers. <em>"Pancakes!"</em></p>
<p>But when he saw Makoto, Ryuji quickly reversed course.</p>
<p>“Shit—!“</p>
<p>But it was too late for Ren. Makoto had already grabbed his wrist and dragged him into the chilly foyer while Ms. Sakamoto ushered the loudly protesting Ryuji towards the kitchen. Bless her. Ren tried to pull away, but like a bulldog with a rat in its jaws, she did not let go.</p>
<p>"I need to talk to you about last night."</p>
<p>"Let me go."</p>
<p>"Are you going to run?"</p>
<p>Silence.</p>
<p>She let him go anyway, and he stuffed his hands into his armpits in a both cold and defiant gesture. “How did you find me?”</p>
<p>“I had a feeling," she said. And after a long, uncomfortable pause, she added, "I also came to bribe you with these." She lifted the plastic lid.</p>
<p>"Cupcakes?" Ren asked with a puzzled look.</p>
<p>"I baked them."</p>
<p>"...thanks?" He reached out to grab one, but she slapped his hand.</p>
<p>“Nope. One is for you, and one is for Akechi.”</p>
<p>He sighed and she narrowed her eyes. “We told him that you're leaving next weekend.”</p>
<p>"...what did he say?"</p>
<p>"I'm not playing intermediary. You ask him yourself."</p>
<p>Ren squeezed his hands tighter into his armpits. He wasn't going for it. She decided to switch tactics. “I know you like him—“</p>
<p>“I don’t know what I am to him!” he sighed frustratedly. “If I were him, I’d be pissed that I—we—left him behind.“</p>
<p>"And?"</p>
<p>"And..." He dropped his head. “And he’s in my room, having coffee, acting like it’s <em><strong>nothing</strong></em>. I keep thinking he shouldn’t be alive. And yet, there he is."</p>
<p><em>There he is.</em> She waited.And then—</p>
<p>"I already accepted that he was dead. But now—I don't know what a future looks like with him in it.</p>
<p>"A lot had changed from when she'd helped him out of his grief months ago. It had just hit her that he still wasn't—okay. He was still grieving. She chose her next words carefully. "Y'know Ren...before we met you, a lot of us were living someone else's lives," she said. "I don't think we—I—knew what my future looked like either. I was scared, to be honest. But it was you who showed me the real way to live my life was turned towards the truth, even if it's uncomfortable."</p>
<p>He was silent for a moment, and she added, in a softer voice, "No regrets, you know?"</p>
<p>He reached out his hand.</p>
<p>"Ren...?"</p>
<p>He took the box from her.</p>
<p>"Thanks. I'll give them to him."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>We all could use a friend like Makoto.</p>
<p>This chapter was somewhat short, but it's leading up to the finale. Thanks as always for the kudos, supportive comments and constructive feedback! I may be taking a bit more time with the next two chapters, but I'll make sure it's worth the wait. ;)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Confess to Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The confession. When words fail them, Ren and Akechi revert to texting.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>Chapter 11: Confess to Me</h3>
<h4>Ren Amamiya</h4>
<p>He stared down at the plastic box in his hands, then up at Leblanc's old wooden door. He hated that she was right, but she was right. The truth was uncomfortable, and complicated, and messy. And if he didn't find it out now, he would slip through his fingers. He took a deep breath and reached for the door, but Sojiro beat him to it. He expected at the least a suspicious look and a “where were <em>you</em> last night” but instead, he handed him a cup of coffee. “Going shopping today. Don’t set anything on fire.”</p>
<p>“You gonna be back tonight?” Ren asked, a note of nervousness creeping into his voice. “I’m leaving this weekend and I—“</p>
<p>“Yeah, I know, kiddo. Don’t remind me.”</p>
<p>“Oh, uh. Yeah. Pick up some hamburger, please. I’ll make dinner.”</p>
<p>Sojiro’s eyebrows raised in an unspoken question, and Ren’s raised right back in an unspoken answer. A long four or five seconds passed between the two of them before Sojiro relented into a smile. “All right. See you tonight.”</p>
<p>He was really going to miss him.</p>
<p>As his eyes followed Sojiro out, he nursed the coffee. It was late morning, and the cafe was pleasantly warm. A spring breeze was blowing through the window. He lingered in the cafe for longer than he normally would, eyeing his bedroom door at the top of the stairs. There was another person he’d miss, too. The box of cupcakes felt unusually heavy. He breathed in, and let out a sigh.</p>
<p>Up six stairs was his bedroom door.</p>
<p>One step. He was confessing to Akechi.</p>
<p>Two steps. What if his attempt turned into a fight? Or worse, he’d just leave.</p>
<p>Three steps. At least he could deal with the former. The latter—well—knowing Akechi, he would never be found unless he <strong>wanted</strong> to be found.</p>
<p>Four steps. The pain would only last a few days. Then he’d be off to Niigata. A change of scenery, a change of pace—it would keep him busy for the summer. He’d find a cute girl who spotted him re-shingling his grandpa’s roof, and she’d bring him a nice bento every once in a while. She’d ask him out on a date, tripping over her words and making him laugh.</p>
<p>Five steps. They’d go out for coffee. She’d be kind and sweet and would never want to make him uncomfortable, to instigate a fight. He would find her irresistible to pick on, and he’d wish that she’d get angry or hit him—but she never would. She would smile sadly, brush a lock of hair behind her ear and ask, “Ren, why are you so mean?”</p>
<p><em>”Because,”</em> he’d say, <em>“I just wish you were someone else.”</em></p>
<p>Six steps. Makoto’s words finally sunk in. <em>"Turn towards the truth, even if it's uncomfortable."</em> He had to get it together, be a man, and confess. Whatever Akechi said, however he reacted, he could handle. Whatever blows he had to trade, he’d withstand them. He chugged the rest of the coffee and set it on the last step.</p>
<p>When he opened the door...</p>
<p>Akechi wasn’t there.</p>
<p>Was he already gone? He peered around the room, but it still seemed lived-in. He heard the sound of running water coming from the bathroom and went to check it out.</p>
<p>In front of the mirror was a stranger—wait, it was <em>Akechi</em>. Wearing latex gloves, he ran his hands through his now-platinum blonde hair. Akechi looked more like a specter than he ever had. He wanted to say something, but his voice caught in his throat.</p>
<p>"Hope you don't mind I'm borrowing your sink."</p>
<p>Ren jumped when he spoke. <em>Remember, he's alive.</em> "Blonde? Why the color change?"</p>
<p>He was staring intently at the mirror, inspecting his hair. “Just the start of a laborious physical alteration. I've inconvenienced you enough already.”</p>
<p>"...you’re leaving?” He swallowed the lump in his throat. He thought back to yesterday, when he left Akechi crying in his bedroom in the care of the Thieves. Shit. Did he fuck it up already?</p>
<p>"Listen, Akechi—"</p>
<p>"You probably want your bed back," Akechi said, still not meeting his eyes. "And peace and quiet."</p>
<p>"Hey—“</p>
<p>"I'll return Sojiro's n-newspaper."</p>
<p>He wasn't even <em>listening</em>. Was this what he sounded like when Makoto tried to talk to him? He tried again, more directly this time as he stepped towards Akechi. “We need to <em>talk</em>—"</p>
<p>Before he could cross the threshold of the door, it slammed shut. He tried the doorknob, but it was locked. Shit, shit, <strong><em>shit</em></strong>. He <em>did</em> fuck it up. A voice inside him whispered <em>the door’s right there.</em> He looked at the exit. Then at the bathroom door. Then back at the exit, longingly...then at the bathroom.</p>
<p><em><strong>No.</strong></em> One last try, and then he would save Akechi the humiliation of ever talking to him again. He pulled out his phone, and saw the three dots signal a message coming from behind the door. Whatever he was going to say, he knew if was going to hurt, so to protect himself against imminent disappointment, he too, began to type.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
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  </p>
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  </p>
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</div>Wait.<p>He stopped, and finally took in the texts. <em>I’m sick. And when I’m around you, I get worse.</em> He thought back to two nights ago, when Akechi’s hands were on his thighs, long and thin in the bright shafts of moonlight. He still remember the way his eyes looked when he saw him, dark and large and full of desire. He shifted uncomfortably. He would have much preferred this to be a fight.</p>
<p>He could still make this a fight.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    
  </p>
</div>Silence from the other end. It gnawed deeply at him, grinding on his bones. He frowned. Normally if he hurled insults at him, he’d toss them right back, and stronger. The lack of text, voice, <em>anything</em> drove him insane. Akechi wasn’t a coward. He wouldn’t run away from a fight, especially from him. So why <em>
  <br/>
  <strong>now</strong>
  <br/>
</em>?<p>He was about to provoke him again, but the detective beat him to the punch.</p>
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</div>Ren's hairs stood on end when he read the words. He pictured him kneeling in front of him with <em>that look</em> in his eyes and he shuddered. Damn him. Why was <em>that</em> so hot? They’d fought before, knocking each other to the floor in a flurry of limbs and punches, but this was... <em>very different.</em><p>Was he just messing with him?</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    
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</div>Without realizing it, beads of sweat were forming on his forehead. He wiped them away with a hand and made a slow half-circle around the room. Possess him? He pictured him tied up like those girls in the magazines he and Ryuji snuck into his room, his eyes wide and pleading. He imagined himself standing over him with a smirk, saying, "Now I <em>know</em> you're not going anywhere."<p>And he would.</p>
<p>Because he had tied the knots.</p>
<p>But there <em>was</em> a chance Akechi was trying to gross him out, to put distance between the two of them so he'd leave him alone. He looked back at his phone. No new messages. It was now or never.</p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks everyone for your kudos and kind words! Finally, Ren was able to confess—sort of. Look forward to the next <em>steamy</em> chapter in a bit. It's been a slow burn, but I hope you enjoy the last bit. I know I will. ;)</p>
<p>By the way, I used <a href="https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=2184597169">JonathanFS's 3D model of Joker's room as a background.</a></p>
<p>Huge thanks to <a href="https://www.reddit.com/r/Persona5/comments/gmw6hz/persona_5_royal_fonts_if_i_find_more_about_the/">Gamerverise on Reddit for uncovering all the localized EN fonts for Persona 5</a> so I could make the interface true to the game.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Possess Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After waiting, each on the other side of his own door, Akechi and Ren come face to face with one another's desires.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Most of the tags/warnings are for this chapter. Please review them before proceeding. And for those who who have and made it this far—please enjoy the "climax" of the story. ;) I hope you have fun reading.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>Chapter 12: Possess Me</h3>
<h4> Akechi Goro</h4>
<p></p><div class="center">
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</div><p>I get the sudden and volatile urge to throw the phone into the bathtub. But my hand is clenched so tight, I cannot. I thrust it into my pocket and pace the bathroom cage like a tiger, trapped. He <em>has</em> to be fucking with me. I run my fingers through my wet hair. B-but if he is, it will be okay, right? This room is small and contained and predictable. I can wither away here nicely, and then they can scrape my desiccated insides off the tile floor once I'm gone.</p>
<p>
  <em>Jesus. Pull yourself together, Akechi.</em>
</p>
<p>I squeeze my eyes closed and breathe in. <em>Keep it together.</em> Hand on the doorknob. <em>Count to three.</em> Something within me claws to cry out, to say stop, but I focus my attention instead on the numbers.</p>
<p>Three—</p>
<p>—two—</p>
<p>—one.</p>
<p>
  <em>Breathe out.</em>
</p>
<p>I unlock the door.</p>
<p>When his eyes meet mine, he puts the phone he's holding into his pocket. He's not smiling, not laughing off the awkwardness, not cuffing me on the shoulder like he normally would. Instead, I detect—</p>
<p>He's serious, isn't he.</p>
<p>My muscles tense, spring-loaded. Before I can step backwards, he grabs my bangs and wrenches me around so hard my legs buckle and I grab the cold sink to remain upright. I’m staring at myself in the mirror, a look of shock mixed with fear plastered on my face. “Piece of shit,” he growls, and I shudder.</p>
<p>Oh <em><strong>fuck</strong></em>, he really <em>is</em> serious.</p>
<p>I swallow a lump in my throat, my mind racing a mile a minute. My scalp hurts. The sink is hard, and if he presses his full weight against me it would be even more painful. Adrenaline surges into my system and my hands start to shake. This can't possibly be real. I meet my own eyes, then try to turn away, but he holds me roughly in place. My heart starts to pound. This <em><strong>has</strong></em> to be a dream. I must have fainted and I'm having a pathetic wet dream on the floor of his bathroom.</p>
<p>"So?" His voice snaps me back to the present. "You're not going to fight back?"</p>
<p>Why would I? <em>He's</em> the one who has me trapped. <em>He's</em> the one who has power...</p>
<p>...over me.</p>
<p>I slowly shake my head."Soo, you're just going to let me—" He forces my head back and slams me against the sink, "—do this to you?"</p>
<p><em>Ouch.</em> My eyes well up and I wince. I can feel the heat emanating from him, his breath on the back of my neck, his hips pressing against mine. Never before have I felt any of those things in my dream—heat, breath, pressure. I'm starting to think that maybe...</p>
<p>this</p>
<p>is</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Real.</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>I nod. "Y-yes," I say in a low whisper. "I will."</p>
<p>His grip on my hair loosens. Perhaps after I acquiesced he took pity on me. Just when I turn to face him he grabs my shoulder and sinks his teeth into my neck. Pain blooms as he draws my skin into his mouth, raking it with his teeth. "Aah—! <strong>F-Fuck!</strong>" It creeps from the base of my neck up to the back of my head and I instinctively reach back, my fingers brushing against his messy hair. </p>
<p>Oh.</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>Oh.</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p>My friend, the fog, settles into the cracks of my brain. I can't remember when he stops sucking on me, but he pulls away from me and my head is spinning.</p>
<p>"Even that, huh?" I barely register the words. I think I'm wobbling because he's holding me upright.</p>
<p>My eyes are open, and when I meet my reflection in the mirror, I see myself staring back. The expression on my face is—I don't know how to describe it any other way than <em>dreamy.</em> He's leaning his head against my shoulder, cheek pressed against a dark red mark on my neck.</p>
<p>"Is this what you meant?" he asks, and I'm speechless, staring at our reflections in the mirror. My—(our?) true selves. In that moment, something in me cracks. I suddenly want him to remove all doubt from my mind. Any niggling voice in the back of my head that's telling me I'll be alone, that I'll never have him touch me in the way I want him to—I want him to take it and crush it.</p>
<p>I turn around to face him.</p>
<p>And then I kiss him.</p>
<p>His kisses are at first tentative, then bolder. I was afraid he'd pull away from me, but he doesn't—he keeps the same pace, the same distance as I do. I sigh and tangle my fingers lazily in his unkempt, fluffy hair. His glasses are pressing up against my nose. He tastes like pancakes. He's so much <em>better</em> than I'd imagined. Whether that is a personal failure of my imagination or his annoyingly perfect mouth, I can't say.</p>
<p>I blame him.</p>
<p>He pulls away and I whine. "Hey, why'd you—<strong>OW!!</strong>"</p>
<p>Bastard bites me again, right above the original bruise. I try to escape, but he wraps his arms around me tightly, pinning me in place. "You <em>piece of sh—</em>"</p>
<p>
  <em>Shit.</em>
</p>
<p>He’s looking me over appraisingly. "A what now?"I busily study the floor. "—n-nothing."</p>
<p>Still squeezing me tight, He presses his lips against my ear and whispers, "What were you going to say?" His voice is dripping with lust and danger.</p>
<p>That voice makes me want to jump out of my skin. <em><strong>Goddamn</strong> him.</em> "N-nothing!!"</p>
<p>
  <em>"Good."</em>
</p>
<p>I hate him so much right now. And yet, I melt in his arms.</p>
<p>"C'mere." He slowly pulls me towards his bed. Or, my bed. I don't know. A week and a half feels like ages.</p>
<p>Was it really a week and a half ago?</p>
<p>"I want a re-do," he says.</p>
<p>"Of what?"</p>
<p>"Of this." He sits down on the bed, and motions in front of him. Two nights ago, under the mask of darkness, I kneeled here, rubbing his feet, his thighs, his—</p>
<p>But <em>this</em> time, it is in broad daylight. I glance nervously at the floor, then back at him. He motions again, patiently waiting. Despite my hesitation, I trust him. If I'm being honest with myself... I always have trusted him. Even when I slammed the shutters closed and faced off against my cognitive self, I trusted he would stop Shido in a way I couldn't. I trusted that even in the Metaverse, he hadn't forgotten about me. And I trusted that if I came to his house in my hour of need, he would help.</p>
<p>And help he did.</p>
<p>I sink to my knees.</p>
<p>"But with one change." He stands up and makes his way behind me. At first, I'm confused, but then when I feel the rough snake of nylon rope against my skin I soon understand. I shiver.</p>
<p>"Akechi, do you trust me?"</p>
<p>I nod. "Yes."</p>
<p>"Good." He wraps the rope around my crossed wrists, pulling one length through, then another. He brings his lips to my ear again.</p>
<p>“You know, when you—left the first time, I kept thinking that I should’ve been there."</p>
<p>The rope tightens. So he's replayed that moment in his head, too. I thought it was just me. I went through all the possible iterations of how that day could have went, and in the end, though I likely had different, better choices to make, I don't think I would have made them.</p>
<p>"I should have fought your cognitive self alongside you."</p>
<p>I don't want to think about how badly he could have been hurt. He could have been shot, or <em>worse.</em> I remember Futaba's words. <em>Don't make people suffer any more than they already have over you.</em> Quick, say something to diffuse. "How could I have had my heroic comeback, then?" I chuckle, nervously.</p>
<p>It works.</p>
<p>"Crawling through my window after being "dead" for four months is a very <em>you</em> move," he says with a laugh. Then, with more seriousness—"Don't do that again." The rope cinches around my wrists as if to emphasize his point. Then he presses his fingers against me, checking my circulation. They do <em>that</em> in those smutty comics he reads?</p>
<p>I'm thinking up another witty jab when he sits on the edge of the bed and spreads his legs wide. "So. That massage."</p>
<p>I look up at him incredulously. Is he an idiot? I can't massage him without my—</p>
<p>"You can do it with your mouth." A mischievous smile flicks across his face.</p>
<p>That throws me off balance, but I elegantly regain my composure. <em>You're not going to get me that easily, Amamiya.</em></p>
<p>"You gonna make me suck you off?"</p>
<p>"I'm not gonna <em>make</em> you do anything." he leans forward, uncomfortably close to my face. I instinctively draw back. My cheeks start to redden as he places a finger on my lips, drawing it from my chin down to my chest. His mouth moves close to mine, acting as if he's about to kiss me, but he doesn't. I lick my lips. "You know, you could just—"</p>
<p>"Or you could beg."</p>
<p>I involuntarily shudder. "Like hell I am."</p>
<p>"Suit yourself."</p>
<p>The hand on my chest snakes its way to my pecs, my stomach, and then—</p>
<p>brushes against my—</p>
<p>"Mmh—!" I pitch forward, accidentally crushing my lips to his. He bites my lip playfully and I rub my groin against his hand with a low moan. I shouldn't be enjoying this as much as I am. But I am. He's got me in the palm of his hand...</p>
<p>Quite literally.</p>
<p>I break the kiss and huffily look away. <strong><em>No.</em></strong> I'm <strong>not</strong> going to let him win. That was an accident.</p>
<p>His fingers dance over my crotch again and I double over, sucking in air through my teeth. I'm not used to being this sensitive. I want to grab his hand, press it against me and just <em>grind</em> myself into oblivion. I whine and look down, scooting closer to him.</p>
<p>"You want something," he says coolly. I glare at him. He shrugs, and removes his hand.</p>
<p><em>Goddamn you.</em> "Y-yes, I w-want something," I grit through my teeth.</p>
<p>"What?"</p>
<p>"Your—hand."</p>
<p>"Where?"</p>
<p><em>"Really?"</em> I sigh exasperatedly. Shouldn't it be obvious? I shouldn't have to say it. He tents his fingers underneath his chin, giving me a patient look, as one would a child. This is humiliating. I bite my lip and look at the floor. My face is getting hotter. "You know."</p>
<p>"Oh. Here?" He presses two fingers against my lips. I sigh. <em>You know what I mean, you asshole!</em></p>
<p>But I am on the edge of desperate.</p>
<p>"No?" Just as he starts to pull away, I part my lips and draw his fingers into his mouth, sucking on them gratefully. A shiver rolls itself down my spine again and my world becomes just a bit smaller, a bit softer. I sigh. When he draws his fingers from my mouth I find myself following them, wanting more. I frown when he resumes his position above me, looking right through me just as he always has.</p>
<p>He doesn't have to say anything for me to hear his voice in my head, taunting me.</p>
<p>
  <em>What do you want?</em>
</p>
<p>All I have to do is say it. And it's last thing I want to do.</p>
<p>Talking is hard.</p>
<p>I try to kiss him again, but he deftly evades me. I am knocked off balance, flopping into his eagerly awaiting thighs. I don't have enough time to work out what has happened before he forces my head down between his legs. Surprised, I suck in a breath.</p>
<p>The smell of sex. I inhale again, deeply. My body is aching. "Oh, please…" I breathe into his fly. <em>Don't make me say it.</em></p>
<p>"What? I can't hear you," he teases.</p>
<p>"Please," I say, more earnestly this time. An electric sensation crawls its way, spider-like, up my spine, to the back of my skull.</p>
<p>"I can't hear you."</p>
<p>"Amamiya—let me," I say through grit teeth, inhaling again. He's hard, twitching against the fabric of his slacks. He wants me, and I know it. "Don't make me beg."</p>
<p>I let out a muffled yell as he crushes my face deeper into his crotch, rubbing my mouth against him. "Mmmh," he breathes, "We could just do <em>this</em> until I get off." I struggle to free myself, but his grip is too secure. I open my mouth to suck in what little air I can, but he continues to grind me against him. The nylon rope cuts into my wrists the more I struggle.</p>
<p>If he wanted to, he could just <em>use me.</em> I wouldn't get to touch him. Or have him in my mouth. Tears burn at my eyes.</p>
<p>It's unfair!</p>
<p><em>I'm</em> supposed to be the kinky one, and he's beating at my own game. I'm completely at his mercy.</p>
<p>"Beg for me, Akechi," he says in a soft, but firm voice. I'm instantly transported back into my fantasy. In my dream, his gloved hands were all over me, pulling me apart, piece by piece. All those nights, lusting after him, dreaming of him, sometimes while he was sleeping in the same room as me. How lovely it is to be torn apart by him.</p>
<p>I sob and nuzzle desperately against him. "Ren, please...." He's so close to me, I can taste it. The front of his slacks are wet with my spit. "Please... let me suck you off, please..." His thumb is on my chin, holding my face to look at him. Tears are sliding down my face. I don't care how awful I look. I don't care if my face is red, I don't care how loud I say it, or how much I beg, all I want is—</p>
<p>I don't remember what I said next.</p>
<p>I also don't remember when he undid his fly.</p>
<p>But I remember the sensation of his hand on the back of my head, guiding my mouth onto him and the tang of salt as I slide my tongue down his cock. The smell overpowers me and I suck in a deep, grateful breath. I want to say <em>thank you</em> but my mouth is too full. He draws in a shaky breath and exhales.</p>
<p>The room narrows to just me and him. I don't know what I was doing before this, but this is what I am doing now. Or perhaps it was what I was made to be doing.</p>
<p>I can feel his muscles tense and untense, unfurl, unwind.</p>
<p>His breathing turns into shallow panting. The more his body responds to me, the more I want to please him. My cheeks are burning. My body moves on its own accord. I quicken my pace.</p>
<p>"Akechi..."</p>
<p>He says my name. I shudder. Yes.</p>
<p>"Akechi—"</p>
<p>"Nngh—dammit."</p>
<p>I look up.He's biting his lip, trying to keep his cool, a deep blush on his face. Suddenly, he grabs a fistful of my hair and drags my mouth off of him. Bereft of my toy, a deep whine emerges from my throat. I want something, anything of his to fill my mouth. Thankfully, he presses his lips to mine and allows me to hungrily kiss him, barely keeping myself from falling apart entirely. We're kissing and he's nibbling on my lips and suddenly, his hand is sliding between my legs. Words spill from my mouth, desperate and frantic. "Oh please—touch my cock. Let me rub myself against you—God—I'll do anything—"</p>
<p>"Anything?"</p>
<p>I'm too desperate to feel any sense of impending dread. "Anything," I gasp.</p>
<p>"Oh, <em>good</em>."</p>
<p>Suddenly, my vision tips backwards and I hit the floor. I yelp in surprise and pain, but it soon gives way into pleasure as he unzips my pants and dances his fingers atop the bulge in my boxers. He kneels above my chest, holding his dick in one hand and grabbing my crotch with the other. I try to scoot back, but he's pinning me down with his weight. I shudder. "No—" I say, my voice shaking. "C-Come on..."</p>
<p>"Yes, that's <em>exactly</em> what I intend to do to you."</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>"Ren!!"</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p>"You said you'd do anything, right?" he whispers. "You want me to possess you..."</p>
<p>"I do, but..." To do so would mean letting go. And letting go would mean—</p>
<p>"So let me possess you, Akechi." I let out a loud moan as he fishes my dick out of my boxers. He's pushing me doggedly towards the edge.</p>
<p>"Let me."</p>
<p>"Ah—nnh, ah Ren, I'm..." He grins. "Mmh, the great detective's words fail him now?" he mocks me. I try to shoot him a glare, but my thighs are shaking and my mask is shattering and my mind is a blur.</p>
<p>"Let me," he repeats emphatically, through grit teeth. I bite my lip—</p>
<p>—and nod. "P-please. Cum on me."</p>
<p>
  <em>Okay, Ren. Take what's left of me. Whatever you want, you can have it.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I'll gladly give it to you.</em>
</p>
<p>My body seizes up, and my back arches up from the floor. My sensation peaks, dizzying and intense, and he cries out.</p>
<p>And I am <em>covered</em>, possessed, disgustingly sticky and so <em>fucking</em> high.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Epilogue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3>Epilogue</h3>
<h4>Akechi Goro</h4>
<p>There's a plate sitting on top of his bedsheets. On it, there's two cupcakes. His and mine.</p>
<p>My head is in his lap. We're both freshly showered. His fingers are in my mouth and I'm sucking the remnants of chocolate icing from them. The fog in my mind is beginning to clear, though laying like this, it feels like out of a dream I never want to wake up from. Soon, I'll eventually have to come back into the real world, but for now his fingers and his voice are my world.</p>
<p>He and I.</p>
<p>We're both idiots.</p>
<p>Idiots staring at the ghost of the other, hoping that the ghost will someday become real when all we had to do was reach out. I'm the smarter of the two of us, why did it take me so long to realize...?</p>
<p>He stirs. "Can I ask you something?"</p>
<p>"Sure."'</p>
<p>"Will...um—you sleep with me tonight?"</p>
<p>"Sure." My words are blissfully slurred.</p>
<p>"And the next night?"</p>
<p>"Sure?"</p>
<p>"And the next one?"</p>
<p>I shift to look up at him, one eyebrow cocked. <em>What is he trying to say?</em></p>
<p>"If you want to leave, I won't stop you."</p>
<p>At first I don't understand what he's talking about. A few moments of silence tick by before it hits me, belatedly. Is he—</p>
<p>"Are you asking me out?" I ask. For perhaps the first time in my life, I see what embarrassed looks like on Amamiya Ren's face. His cheeks are pink and he's looking away. I grin devilishly.</p>
<p>"Oh my <strong><em>god</em></strong>. You <strong><em>are</em></strong>, aren't you?"</p>
<p>He laughs sheepishly and scratches the back of his head. Slowly, a smirk spreads across my face. I put my hand over his.</p>
<p>"Please."</p><hr/>
<p>I'm standing next to a rundown train station. Rice paddies yawn out into the distance and a woman selling eggs from her driveway chats with some customers. Gone are my beige peacoat, my chestnut brown hair. I'm wearing a button-down and a dark green sweater and look like a lost city boy. Some elderly folks have stopped by in the forty minutes I've been waiting here and asked me if I was lost.</p>
<p>On the contrary. I know exactly where I'm going.</p>
<p>The wind caresses my blonde hair and he steps off the train, a bag for him and a bag for me. He hands me the bag wordlessly.</p>
<p>"Your grandpa know his grandson is a dirty queer?" I ask, to which he elbows me sharply.</p>
<p>I laugh. "I'll take that as a no."</p>
<p>"You're awful."</p>
<p>"You love it."</p>
<p>His eyes meet mine and I still. Something about the way in which he looks at me is so direct and genuine it twinges my inner awkwardness. I bow my head in embarrassment and am surprised when he ruffles my hair affectionately.</p>
<p>"You know what? I do."</p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>For everyone who left kind comments and kudos—thank you so much! I started this in December of last year, and I'm glad to have seen this work through.</p>
<p>Some of you might be wondering, "why did it take you over a month to post each chapter?"</p>
<p>In truth, I've been working on this fic as a side project to my main hobby—a video game recreation of 2000's-era Livejournal roleplay communities and the fans that created them. It's called <a href="http://playterranova.com/">Terranova</a>, and I'm the lead writer. If you like my writing and want to read more of my work, I highly recommend checking Terranova out. We'll be releasing the full game in 2021.</p>
<p>Thank you again for reading!</p>
<p>- illuminesce</p>
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